


A Touch Of Starlight

by BandraK



Category: Glee
Genre: AU, F/F, Ridiculous, Sci-Fi, What in the hell was I Thinking, random wacky
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-19
Updated: 2015-05-24
Packaged: 2018-03-31 08:40:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3971341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BandraK/pseuds/BandraK
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I don't even know where to begin. An Extremely AU version of the Gleeks in all their Sci-fi-ish glory (or as much glory as my writing skills can manage.)</p><p>The Alliance calls them Pirates, Quinn Fabray and her rag tag crew much prefer the title of 'independent trader'. Either way you cut it Quinn and her crew need a score and a big one before their ship falls apart around them or worse, their crew revolt for lack of pay. Her first mate, Santana Lopez, thinks her long time friend and commander's plan to get them back into the black, literally and figuratively, is suicidal and has more to do with Quinn's crush on famous Holo-stage and Vid-screen star Rachel Berry than it does sound financial planning. </p><p>Especially since Quinn's plan is to kidnap Rachel from one of the most well guarded space stations in one of the most heavily patrolled sectors of Alliance Space. And that's before you take into account Rachel's personal assistant slash body guard, Brittany S Pierce. </p><p>Full of random references, inside puns, and lines that exist solely to make the author laugh. Your mileage may vary but who couldn't use a touch of starlight in their life?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Star Light, Star Bright, First Star I See Tonight

“Captain’s log, Stardate 2142.507. We’ve reached the co-ordinates of the distress signal and found the wreck of a Daedalus class passenger transport. Preliminary scans indicate that ship was damaged by a series of explosions. They also show no signs of combat which leads us to believe the ship may have been sabotaged. Lieutenant Commander Hendricks is preparing a boarding party to confirm. I’ve ordered the ship to defence condition yellow until we know more.”

The brown eyed woman leaned back in her seat and turned her head to look at the blonde sitting to her right. “How was that?”

“I still don’t get the stardate thing and you forgot the bit about not finding any survivors.”

Rachel Berry, rising star of holo-stage and vid-screen, frowned. “I did?”

“Yup, ” Brittany, the brunette’s every present companion slash assistant slash body guard confirmed as she glanced down at the tablet sitting on her lap, ” …’preparing a boarding party to confirm, and look for any survivors‘…”

“And look for any survivors.” Rachel repeated , her eyes closed to enhance her concentration. “And look for any survivors, and look for any survivors.” She opened her eyes. “Anything else?”

“Nope. Everything else was perfect, as usual.”

“Not perfect enough.” Rachel lamented as she took the tablet off her friend’s lap. “Of course it would help if this plot made any sense what-so-sever. Why am I doing this movie again?”

“They offered you double your asking price plus 3 points on the first dollar gross and Kurt threatened to quit if you didn’t say yes-“

Rachel nodded. “The boy does likes his ten percent”

“And because Artie asked you to.”

“Ah.” Rachel replied neutrally as she scrolled the script for ‘Starship Adventure (working title)’ back several pages. “Remind me to get the script first next time Artie asks me to be in one of his projects.”

“Why, you know you’re going to say yes anyway.”

Rachel looked up, sighed, then smiled at the other woman. “True. But only because he directed me in my break out role and I trust him as a fellow artist.” Her eyes dipped down to the tablet before she shut it off and tossed it onto the couch on the other side of the richly appointed room. “That is, when he’s not doing mindless action dreck like this.”

“Please,” Brittany rolled her eyes as she stood up to retrieve the digital hub of one of the Alliance’s most famous citizens, “you know you love it.”

Rachel gave the blonde a narrow eyed glare that lasted all of three seconds before a smile destroyed the effect. “True. Sometimes I think you know me too well.”

“It’s what you pay me for.” Britt flicked her thumb over the power switch. “That, and to keep your schedule. Speaking of which, you should go change. We’ll be docked in a little over 15 minutes and then you’ve got a ten minute meet and greet with your fans before the press junket starts. And don’t bother pouting, you love all of that too.”

“Damn you.” Rachel said with transparent force as she got to her feet and turned towards her closet. She paused for a moment as her gaze passed over the equally transparent aluminum window that stretched the length of the curved outer wall of her first class compartment, and stared at the multicoloured streaks of light on the other side.

It was a sight she’d never get bored with, not simply for its beauty, but because she always felt it was a metaphor for her own stars meteoric rise to the top, a journey so fast that the sky itself blurred into one never ending rainbow as she raced towards her destiny. And as she’d always said, metaphors were important.

“Go. Change. Now.”

Rachel looked over at the the blonde pointing behind her, stuck her tongue out, then tugged at the collar of her far-better-tailored version of a fleet uniform as she headed for the closet.

* * *

”- and the compression coil is on its last legs-“

“I know”

“Or coils. I don’t know, I don’t speak tech-‘

“I said ‘I know’.”

“And if we don’t get some ammunition soon, it’s going to make the whole pirating thing a lot harder to pull off. Unless you want us to go out on the hull and throw rocks at-“

“I said, ‘I! Know!’ I get it San! We need cash, we need supplies, we need this, we need that! What do you want me to do about it? The damn Alliance has tripled their patrols in the last 2 months. We barely made it out the last time they showed up.”

“Q, chill. I’m just doing my job, the job you pay me to do.” Santana said in self defence. The effect spoiled somewhat as she muttered, “Or did when you were still handing out the paychecks,” out of the corner of her mouth. “Which brings me to my next point, the crew are starting to get a little restless-“

The caramel skinned woman cut herself off as the short cropped blonde laid her head against the long-past-well-worn metal surface of her ‘desk’, little more than a shelf sticking out at waist height from the bulkhead.

“Q?”

“Just… give me a minute.”

San nodded as she leaned against the patch scared wall on the other side the desk, her left leg bent and her raised foot softly tapping to the steady thrum of the Unholy’s trinity core.

“…We could always take Puckerman up on his offer-” She ventured several seconds later only to cut herself off again as the glare her suggestion received left Santana with little doubt how likely that course of action would be.

“I’ll figure it out.” Quinn said as she sat back in her seat. “Until then we’ll stick to the slower trade routes and take whatever we can get. If nothing else it should keep the crew busy.”

Santana slowly licked her lips, a tell both women knew meant she wasn’t convinced.

“I’ll figure it out San, I always do.”

The Unholy’s second in command nodded. “I’ll go give the order.”

Quinn nodded, then spun her chair around on the support shaft bolted to the floor.

Santana wet her lips as she turned away. The clang of the air tight door confirmed her departure.

Quinn pressed her feet against the deck, bringing her seat to a quick stop, then back pedalled until she was facing her desk again. A few quick taps and a ball of flickering light a half dozen inches across appeared above the desk’s dented surface before slowly focusing into several miniature figures.

“-st minutes away from the much anticipated arrival of Rachel Berry here at K-7. I wish you could be here Nathan, the energy from the gathered fans is almost a physical force. You could run a Star Destroyer with it.”

“I bet it is Mercedes. If anyone ever found a way to bottle the star power Rachel Berry has, they’d be rich beyond their wildest dreams.”

“So true Nathan, so true.”

* * *

“Miss Berry, Miss Berry, Mercedes Jones with ‘Star Struck’. Could we have a moment of your time.”

“Of course Miss Jones, I’m a huge fan of your work.”

A large natural grin supplanted the smaller ‘work’ smile on Mercedes lips. “Really?”

“Oh yes, I watch your show all the time.” Rachel leaned in conspiratorially, “Just between us, I’m something of a gossip hound and you always have the juiciest tidbits.” The brunette winked playfully at the lens of the camera resting on the shoulder of the tall blonde standing behind and slightly off to one side of the rubenesque interviewer.

“Oh,” the grin flickered for a beat before regaining its size in exchange for some of its authenticity. “Well thank you. But I’m sure your fans would much rather hear about you and I know how busy your schedule is, so lets cut to the point shall we? Your new film, 'Jane Austen Sings', doesn’t opens in theatres until next month but already there is serious Oscar buzz about your performance. Are you already clearing space in your trophy case?”

“Oh heavens no. I was privileged to work with an incredible cast and crew on this film and like all of them, I was just doing my job. If the academy decides that my performance is worthy enough for a nomination, that’s honour enough for me.”

Rachel flashed the camera a million watt smile before continuing down the barrier lined path carved through the crowd of people shouting for her attention.

“Miss Berry? Miss Berry?”

“And cut.” The blonde said as lowered the camera to his side. “You did great, babe.” He watched from behind as the dark skinned woman shook her head. “Are we off?”

“Yeah, they call it after she walked away.”

“Good.” She turned around slowly. “I’m sick of this shit Sam. I’m better than this.”

“I kno-”

“Did you hear her?” Mercedes face scrunched up, “…Juicy little tid-bits… an honour just to be nominated…” She gave her head another shake, harder this time. “I could break her like a twig.”

“I know.”

“Stop trying to calm me down.”

“Whatever you say, Babe.” Sam replied as he wrapped his arms around his co-worker slash girlfriend.”

“Why you got to be like that?” Mercedes protested weakly as she returned the embrace.

“C’mon ‘Ceds,” Sam said, ignoring the question like he did every time she asked it. He slipped around to her side, his arm resting over Mercedes shoulders, “Lets go get something to eat.”

“Think they got tots on this hunk’a’junk?”

“’Ceds, this place has twelve five start restaurants, I’m sure they’ve got just about anything you want.”

“So? What do you think?”

* * *

Santana leaned back in her seat, technically Quinn’s but the blonde had left it abandoned while she explained her grand design. “Let me make sure I got this straight, you want to go to K-7, one of the biggest resort stations in this sector, and smack dab in the middle of one of the busiest trade routes in the entire Alliance by the way, so we can kidnap one of the most recognizable people in the whole universe?”

Ignoring the sarcasm, Quinn nodded. “Yup, pretty much.”

“And the fact that our intended victim just happens to be one Rachel Berry has nothing to do with this.”

Quinn glanced down at her pants and brushed at an imaginary spot. “Actually,” she said, “the whole plan kind of hinges on it. They aren’t going to pay a ransom for Joe Schmoe from Seti Alpha Six”

“Uh-huh. Let me rephrase my question. Your school girl crush on lil Miss Berry has absolutely nothing to do with your plan?”

Quinn’s head snapped up, mouth open to fire off a denial. Seeing the smirk on Santana’s lips, she closed her lips together and drew a deep breath. After blowing the breath out, she calmly corrected her second in command. “I do not have a crush on her.”

The smirk on the latina’s lips grew as she gave a small nod of her head. “Right, and that secret stash of her movies in your room is jus-“

“Is because I like her movies. And I’m not the only one, which is why they’ll pay big bucks to get her back. Not that it’s any business of yours either way, Lieutenant”

“Whatever you say, Captain.” Santana shot back. “Should I make sure we’ve got a pen handy so you can get her autograph while we’re at it?”

“No, but a gag might not go amiss.”

Santana’s lips curled into a ‘told you so’ smirk.

“I meant for you.” Quinn’s clarification did nothing to diminishing her second in command’s grin. “Shut up.” she added as she turned her back to the dark haired pirate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title of Rachel's film, 'Jane Austen Sings' was a place holder until today. I picked it at the last moment and yes, it is a reference to the season 6 finale (which I have not seen yet) so that one's a gimme for all of you.


	2. Star-t it up!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Deals are made, plans proceed apace, and more characters are introduced. Will the author survive all the plot or be buried under the list of references hidden throughout?
> 
> Who cares about the Author? What about Rachel.
> 
> Read to find out.

“Horse and Hound thanks you for your time, Miss Berry.”

“Tell them they're both welcome.” Rachel replied, her self satisfied smile waning in time with the growing silence that followed her joke.

The actress tightened her grin. “And please call me Rachel.”

The interviewer returned her smile as he rose from his seat. He added a nod. “Of course Mis- Rachel.”

“See, isn't that better?”

“I-”

The sound of a cough cut short their conversation and the pair turned toward the blonde head peaking in at them from the waiting room. “Miss Berry, your next appointment is here.”

“Thank you, Brittany.” Rachel stressed the last word pointedly as she aimed a pointed if playful look at her assistant. “Tell them I'll be a few minutes and then would you bring me a glass of water?”

Brit stepped into the room to let the wavy haired Englishman leave. “Of course Miss Berry.”

Rachel waited for the dura-steel door to slide shut. “You know, you're not the only person who wants to work for me.”

“Yeah, but I'm the only one that can put up with you for longer than ten minutes.” Brittany fired back without a pause.

“Brat.” Rachel said, trying very hard not to match the grin on the other woman's lips.

“I was thinking more 'diva' myself but, hey, if you prefer 'brat' I'm good with it.” Britt said as she made a note on her tablet.

“Out.” Rachel pointed towards the door, her lips twitching as she fought to maintain her stern expression.

“As you wish Miss Berry. And do try to smile, only seventeen more interviews to go before your lunch break.”

Rachel was still looking for something to throw when the door shut behind Brittany.

* * *

“Ladies. Finally decided to take me up on my offer, I hope.”

“And you can keep right on hoping.” Quinn told Puck before the approach of what the blonde had to think of as men if only because she knew Puck preferred his women to be more curve and less bulging sinew, stopped her in her tracks.

“Go on, try it.” Santana told the hired muscle, arms folded over her chest.

“Guys, it's okay.” Noah said when the guards shot him a questioning glance. “I trust my girls and they trust me. It's why we work so well together.”

*cough* “Bullshit.” *cough*

“San.” Quinn warned, her eyes flicking briefly to the heavily muscled backs of the two men returning to their posts.

“What?” Santana asked Quinn. “It's dusty in here.” Her focus shifted to the 'Resource Exchange Specialist' sitting behind the large, spotless, lead crystal desk that occupied the centre of the room. “You really should get some better help around this joint.”

Puck ran his eyes up the Latina from toe to temple. “I've got a couple of uniforms in back if you're volunteering.”

“Please. Lik-”

“If you two are done flirting,” Quinn broke in, “We're here to shop.”

“Of course you are.” Puck said, throwing his arms out to the sides. “That's what everyone comes here for. You want it, I got it. And if I don't have it, I can get it.” He rested his arms on his desk as he leaned forward in his surprisingly austere black mesh fabric chair. “For a price of course. Have to cover my overhead.”

“Of course.” Quinn gave him a forced smile, her eyes briefly diverting to the ridge of hair peacocking from the top of Puck's head.

“So,” Puck said as he got out of his seat and moved to sit on the edge of his desk, arms folded across his chest, “What can I get you ladies.”

San stepped forward, a smile her only response to the way the half dozen men arrayed around the room shifted position, and pulled a transparent roll out of her back pocket.

“Ooh, still warm.” Puck said as he took the roll from Santana before flashing her a wink as he flexed his pectorals

She rolled her eyes and returned to Quinn's side.

“Interesting list.” Puck looked up from the now unfurled roll.

“You can't fill it? We can go elsewhere-”

“No, no. I can get fill it just fine,” Puck winked, “I can fill anything you want me to... but it would help to know what you're planning to do with all this.”

“Pay for it.” Quinn replied in a tone that made it clear no further details would be forthcoming.

“Programmable transponder, mutli-phase scrambler, Alliance trade certificates,” Quinn's tone went ignored by Puck as read off her list. “EMP mine, hand held crypto gear, press passes.” Puck looked up at the two pirates. “Press passes? Q, c'mon. Whatever you're planning has got to be big. You let me in on it and I'll give you the whole order at cost.”

“No offence, Noah, but I'd rather pay full price.”

“And here I thought we were friends.” Puck feigned hurt.

“I'll still take that discount if it'll make you feel any better.”

Santana's shoulders shook as she bit down on her lower lip to suppress her chuckle.

“Uh, no.” Puck replied as he moved back behind his desk. “But you are going to have to tell me some of your master plan Quinn, for the trade certs and the press badges.”

“Fair enough. But before we get to that. I'm going to need a price.”

“You know what they say Q, if you have to ask...”

“I can pay. Just name your price.”

Puck looked down at the sheet in his hand and scrolled back through the list with a flick of his finger against the transparent surface. “Fifty.”

“You've got to be fucking kidding me.” Santana burst out, getting a whole three steps towards the desk before her path was blocked by a wall of guards.

“San.”

“Don't 'San' me. You know this is bullshi-”

“They're armed.”

Santana looked down at the array of deadly and illegal firearms aligned at waist height, most of which were pointed in her direction.

“Pansies.” She spat before backing away.

“Thirty.”

“You said you could pay.”

“And I can. A reasonable price.”

“Fifty is- guys, you want to get out of the way here, I'm trying to negotiate with my friend.” Puck reappeared as his lackeys slowly made their way back to their posts.

“As I was saying, fifty is reasonable.”

“So is thirty.”

“Q-”

“You've got at least half that list in your storehouse right now, the only thing that might be a problem is the paperwork and you pride yourself on the quality of your paperwork so I'm not seeing how that'll be much of a problem either. Thirty.”

“Forty-five.”

“Thirty five”

“Forty-two five”

Thirty-five. Final offer.”

Puck's eyes moved between the two women for several seconds. “Deal. Payment on delivery, as always.”

“As always.”

Puck motioned one of the guards over and handed him the list. “Q? When whatever this is blows up in your face-”

“You'll be the first one I look for.” Quinn cut in. “Call when our stuff is ready.”

“Of course.” Puck said to the backs of the two women, or more precisely the spot just below their backs, until the double doors of his office shut out the view. “We both know I've got your number.”

* * *

“Incoming comm signal.”

“Mmphgl.”

“Incoming comm signal.”

“Grmphl.”

“Incoming comm signal.”

“Whtzit?”

“Incoming comm sign-” *Beep*

“Five more minutes, Mom.”

“You know, most people check who they're talking to before they start a conversation?”

“...Kurt?” Finn sat up and the glow in the dark video image of his brother winced at the sound of Finn's head smacking the storage rack above the narrow cot he called his bed.

“OW!”

“Finn, are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Finn's voice replied a moment before a dull, yellow light illuminated him, one hand rubbing his forehead.

“You know,” video Kurt said in the tone of one that knew what they were about to say would not go over well no matter how innocently he framed the comment, “I was just in a meeting looking at some replacement options and the new models have a lot more head room.”

“Kurt.” Finn said, head dipped down as he slouched forward and ran a hand through his sleep tousled hair.

“No? Well what if I gave you one of our old ones? They're still-”

“Kurt, no.”

“But-”

Finn's head snapped up. “I have to do this on my own Kurt. I have to prove that I can stand on my own two feet.”

Kurt decided it was best not to point out that the only reason they could have this conversation face to face and not as a series of messages delayed by minutes as they made the round trip from Kurt to Finn and back was because he'd had a real time communications array installed on Finn's ship. A system that cost enough on its own to buy the vessel fifty times over and then some. His decision was made made all the easier since getting Finn to agree to the installation had taken the better part of a month of cajoling on his part and even then, Finn only agreed to it if Kurt made it one way -- Finn would be able to accept calls but not make them.

“That's what you said when you joined the Fleet, Finn,”

“Yeah, and how did that end?”

Kurt's video doppelgänger looked down. “... That wasn't your fault.”

“That's not what the review board said.”

“That doesn't mean-”

“Kurt, I appreciate everything you've done for me and I couldn't have ask for a better brother, but my answer is no.”

The sigh sounded heavy even over the sub-par tinny speakers. “Fine. But if you change your mind or if anything happens, you call me. Okay?”

Finn looked directly at Kurt's image for the first time in the conversation and a smile transmitted across the vast emptiness of space. “Okay.”

* * *

There were any number of treatments that could have fixed his condition, from simple cybernetic implants to full cellular reconstruction. At least, there would have been if he'd grown up on one of the core worlds and not some backwater colony; a lump of rock and dirt little better than the pre-terraformed moon it had once been and would have remained if not for the valuable mineral deposits that littered its crust. But he hadn't and the best 'treatment his hard working parents had been able to find, let alone afford, had been an outdated pair of exo-skeletal braces.

He'd left those barely functional braces behind him years ago, and unlike his father, who's premature death had come about thanks to the lung clogging dust stirred up by the very mining that had been his livelihood -- the same cloying dust they'd buried him under -- Artie had put that god forsaken hell hole behind him.

Still had the braces though. Mounted on the wall behind his desk as a reminder of everything he'd overcome to get to where he was now.

If only it hadn't cost him quite so damn much to do it. But as the old saying went; it took money to make money. And for the most part it had been other people's money making him money. Until a string of bad luck and bad reviews had scared off the investors and he'd had no choice but to gamble everything he had left and then some on one last shot to turn his fortunes around.

He probably should have stopped at everything he had.

But it was going to work. The script might not be the greatest thing ever written but he had a big name to make up for it. The biggest, hottest name there was right now. Alone, Rachel's name on the marquee all but guaranteed the kind of box office numbers that would have investors salivating over the chance to fund his next twenty pictures. Especially if the Oscar rumours for her latest film proved true.

It was as good as money in the bank and his debts were as good as paid. All he had to do was convince the people he owed of that.

"Mister Abrams, you're two thirty is here."

Artie cleared his throat before tapping the button to activate his end of the intercom. "Send them in, Sugar."

He got up from his seat to the sound of the remote locks unlatching his office door behind him as he turned to run his eyes over his old braces. With a soft "Showtime" under his breath, Artie turned back towards the door in time to see his guest step into the room.

"Mike, Tina. What a pleasure to see you again.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Turns out I may have written more than I thought I had over the last few days... ~ three chapters worth. Going over it now so not all of it may get posted today but keep your finger's crossed (if more of this is what you want, that is).
> 
> As always, points for spotting the in-jokes, references, and outright character.. borrowing and bonus points if you can spot them all.


	3. Star-ved Is Better Than Star Struck.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Questionable plans... and accents abound in this instalment of our story as Quinn and co move ever closer to their goal while all the while their target remains blissfully unaware of what's to come.
> 
> If they did, cucumber thieves wouldn't seem so bad in comparison.

Santana tapped the lid of the crate back into place with the heel of her hand before giving Quinn a nod. "It's all there."

"Ah course it's all there." Puck's representative said with barely believable offence at the implication that his employer was anything less than a man of his word. "Ah deals ah deal, ain't it." He added, as he tipped the rim of his well worn bowler hat back with his thumb, his cockney accent growing even thicker as he went on speaking. "Which reminds me," he pulled an old fashioned paper envelope out of his suit jacket's inner breast pocket and held it out for Quinn to take, "trader certs and press passes, as ordered."

Quinn reached out to take the documents only to have the envelope pulled back.

"But first it's time you 'eld up your end ah the barg'in idin it?"

Quinn held up a hand to cut off her first mate before Santana could say anything that would only further draw out the exchange. If they were going to pull this off they needed to act fast -- especially because she didn't trust Puck not to screw them over given half a chance. He'd been a little too quick to accept her price for her tastes.

"Here." Quinn pulled several thin gold bars little bigger than a finger from her pocket, each branded with an Alliance seal. "Thirty five as agreed."

"Sorry, love, but the price is forty."

The electric hum of a weapons grade capacitor charging up filled the air.

"Put it away, San."

"But-"

"That's an order."

Quinn could practically feel the death glare her second shot her way but at least it was the only thing she had to worry about Santana shooting as the high pitched whine cycled down.

Through it all, Quinn had never broken eye contact with Puck's lackey.

"The deal was thirty five."

"That was a'fore complications arose, ducks. Rush job on the paperwork took a lil'el more effort than 'e expected."

"And that's my problem because?"

The smile that had been lurking around the man's lips disappeared. "It's your problem 'cause I've got the papers you need and you ain't 'avin' 'em till I 'as forty in me 'and."

Quinn ran her tongue over her teeth. "Fair enough." She said as she dug another gold stick from her pocket.

"You have got to be shitting me." Santana protested, her hand flexing around the grip of her pistol as she stepped towards Quinn.

"Get the cargo stowed and the engines spooled up." Quinn snapped over her shoulder.

"Fucking bullshit!" Was the reply but at least it was a reply heading towards the ship.

"Much obliged, love." The weaselly figure before her said as he plucked the extra bar from her hand before once more extending the envelope in his for her to take. "I do so love it when a deal goes all smooth like."

"Me too." Quinn agreed as she gave the documents a quick once over. Puck may be a dick but he did good work. "In fact, I'd like to give you a little bonus for making all this go down so easy." Quinn added as she stuffed the envelope into her back pocket.

"Do tell love, do te-GRICKKKKK!"

Quinn withdrew her knee from between his thighs and bent down to whisper in to his ear as he crumpled to the floor. "Make sure Puck gets his share of that for me, will you love."

Santana was waiting for her inside the Unholy's cargo bay, a wide grin on her face. "Now that, that was worth an extra five. Almost."

* * *

"Wake-y wake-y, eggs and bacc-y."

Rachel lifted her arm from its resting spot across her eyes and gave Brittany a look of horror. "Tell me that you didn't bring me murder on a plate to eat?"

"Of course I did because it's not like we've known each other for our entire lives or anything."

"You do know that sarcasm is the lowest form of humour?" Rachel said as she straightened up in her seat.

"You do know only people on the receiving end of it say things like that." Brittany countered as she set the tray in her hands down on Rachel's lap before removing the covering lid with a flourish and a, "Ta-da!"

Rachel ran a quick eye over the meal before giving a soft but fully meant "thank you" as she picked up her fork"

"No big." Brittany snagged a slice a cucumber out of Rachel's salad before she dropped onto the couch next to her employer, the lid still held in her other arm. "So how you feeling?" She asked before she started to carefully nibble away the dark green skin from the soft white flesh of her pilfered snack.

"That depends," Rachel stabbed her fork through a slice of tomato, "how many more interviews do I have scheduled today."

"Twenty-three" Brittany replied without pause and Rachel knew that if she asked, Britt would be able to recite chapter and verse every detail each interview. One of life's great mysteries was why her friend continued to play the stereotypical bubble headed blonde when Rachel knew her friend was so much more than that. The closest she'd ever gotten to an honest answer from Britt had been 'the less people expect, the easier it is to surprise them'.

"At ten minutes each that's another four hours."

"Four hours and twenty-six minutes counting in change overs." Another slice of cucumber disappeared from her bowl, the first untouched save for its missing peel sat inside the lid from her tray.

"Why can't I just have them all come in at once and be done with them?"

"One," Brittany replied as she placed her second slice of denuded cucumber next to the first, "your contract states that you will perform certain promotional events of the studios choosing and they chose one on one interviews." Britt's finger tips flipped aside a few leaves of mixed greens in search for her next slice as she continued. "Two, you hate group Q and As because you consider them impersonal and an insult to 'the inherent intimacy of your craft'."

Rachel sighed as she flicked a slice of cucumber into view on the other side of her salad which Brittany quickly claimed for her own.

"But four more hours?"

"Four hours and twenty-six minutes."

Rachel groaned. "Tell me I'll at least have time for a good long soak afterwards?"

Brittany nodded, stacking her skin free three slices together before popping the lot into her mouth. "A whole forty-eight minutes."

"Don't talk with your mouth full."

"You're not the boss of me."

"Yes I am."

"Only technically."

* * *

"Mister Hummel?"

Kurt tilted the old style frame back, his reflection overshadowing the printed photo of his family contained within. A photo taken only weeks before his father's passing and only a few months before Finn had applied to the fleet. He spun his chair around to face his assistant.

"Yes Blaine?"

"I have the CBA on the upgraded models you short listed." Blaine held out a sheaf of papers. He'd long since grown a costumed to his employer's preference for hard-copy in a digital world of instant access data. A preference born from the late founder of Hummel Engineering's love of working with his hands, a fact Kurt had confided to Blaine during one of many late nights in the office.

A fact he found more than a little endearing.

"Thank you." Kurt placed the fame back on his desk, his reflection no longer obscuring the grinning face of his brother along side their parents, then took the pages from Blaine and flicked through the first few pages before putting the report aside.

"Any word from Rachel?"

As dedicated as he was to continuing his father's legacy, Kurt's first love would always be the theatre but with his time taken up with board meetings, product reviews, and planning sessions the closest he could get was playing agent for his best friend. Oddly enough, his experience in the boardroom had been the perfect training for negotiating with studio heads. Plus, having only one client meant that even with what little free time he had, he could make sure she was well looked after.

"Brittany confirmed their arrival at K-7. She should be sitting down to lunch around now if they're on schedule."

"They will be." Kurt smiled. Brittany didn't look it at first glance but she could be quite the task-master when she need to be and many an unsuspecting obstacle to Rachel's schedule had been caught by surprise as the blonde powered through them to keep to her itinerary.

A laugh escaped Blaine. He covered his mouth. "Sorry."

"Don't be."

Blaine returned Kurt's smile. "Will there be anything else?"

Kurt's eyes turned to back to the photo. "The special project we discussed-"

"Proceeding as planned, sir."

"And there's no chance he'll find out?"

"I doubt it." Blaine shook his head. "Not unless he makes a habit of thoroughly investigating every client that hires him."

Kurt pursed his lips in thought before giving a single nod. "So no then."

"No sir."

"Then I think that's all for now."

"Yes sir." Blaine turned to leave.

"And thank you."

The corners of Blaise's mouth tugged upwards. "Anything for you sir."

* * *

“Incoming transmission.”

“Incoming transmission."

“Incoming transmission."

"Yeah, yeah. I heard you the first time." Finn told the synthesized voice as he buckled his pants, then hit the button to retract the toilet back into its hidden compartment.

“Incoming transmission."

"Stupid computer." He grumbled as he raced from the compact confines of the ship's head to slap the 'accept' switch before the voice could sound off again.

*Beep*

Finn rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand before focusing on the text that scrolled up the terminal's screen.

"And Kurt said the ads wouldn't work." Finn read over the details of the shipping request again and did some mental arithmetic. He should be able to fit the goods in his hold with room to spare -- if not much -- and for the fee they were offering he'd give up his bunk if he had too to make good on the delivery. With a lopsided grin he confirmed the contract then moved over to the navigation terminal and pulled up the location of space station K-7.

* * *

"I still think this is a mistake."

"Somehow I'm not shocked." Quinn replied dryly, her focus never shifting from the screen in front of her as she studied the star-chart on display.

"Even with the transponder, all we need is for someone to run just one visual scan and we're toast.

"There are a lot of ships like ours out there."

"Yeah, and everyone of them is run by pirates, Q."

"That's what the trade certs are for."

"Which is great if they take the time to look at 'em -- and they pass inspection -- before blasting us out of the stars."

"They aren't going to fire on a civilian craft, San. And unless you've got a better idea we're forty in the hole on this plan."

"It just so happens that I do."

"Do tell."

Santana moved to Quinn's side. "Don't mind if I do."

Quinn stepped back as she waved her hand, conceding the floor to her partner in crime both literally and figuratively. "I can hardly wait."

Santana ignored the obvious sarcasm as she shifted the star-chart to centre not on the small blue blip that marked their location but a slightly smaller yellow dot following along a dotted line. A line that lead right to their destination. "We hitch a ride."

Quinn looked from the screen to Santana then back. "Are you nuts? This op is already one piece of bad luck away from dumping us in the shit and you want to add the risk of stealing another ship."

"Borrow, not steal."

"Santana!"

"Look, you said it yourself, as it is we get one hiccup and we're toast. With this we at least stand a chance of making it onto the station before we're fucked."

"Yeah, unless your mark gets off a distress signal and brings half the Fleet down on us before we're out the airlock."

"Please, that dinky little ship? Even if they get a signal off, we got the scrambler. The Alliance won't know shit until we're long gone."

Quinn pressed her lips together, looking for any flaw that Santana had missed. "We'd have to wire the scrambler into our comms then take it out again once we got to the station -- assuming it doesn't blow once it's connected to the mains."

"For forty it better not blow or Puckerman's gonna find my foot up his ass."

Quinn looked at the screen again, silently calculating risks versus rewards along side how long it would take them to reach that little yellow dot.

"This goes south..."

"Like I said," Santana turned to rest against the edge of the nav station, "I still think this plan sucks, but this'll make it suck a little less."

Quinn drew in a deep breath.

"Alright, set a course for our getaway vehicle and get Dave to install the scrambler."

"Aye aye, captain."

"And try not to make me regret this."

"That I can't promise."

"What if I make it an order?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My sincerest apologies to anyone with an actual Cockney accent or anyone who knows someone with one. Or really just everyone in general. That should cover any and all possible offence my bastardization of the spoke word has caused. 
> 
> Looks like we might get that third chapter up today after all. Hope you all like cliffhangers.


	4. Lets Get This Party Star-ted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If there's one thing Brittany doesn't like, it's someone messing up her schedule. That, and trying to kidnap her best friend slash boss.
> 
> Mostly the boss thing, really.
> 
> Almost entirely actually.
> 
> But that schedule thing still gets under her skin.

"Thank you for your time."

"No, thank you. It's always a pleasure to talk about my projects,. Especially with such an attentive audience."

"Can I quote you on that."

"Please do." Rachel laughed as she took the proffered hand and shook it. "And have a safe trip back."

"You as well, Miss Berry."

"Rachel."

"Rachel."

Brittany appeared in the doorway and waited until the interviewer exited the room before she stepped through and let the door close behind her.

The smile disappeared from Rachel's face as if it had been turned off by a switch and both hands rose up to rub at her aching cheeks. "Thank God that's over." She said through squished lips.

Brittany coughed.

"No." Rachel said, her hands dropped into her lap as she turned an accusatory glare towards the blonde. "That was twenty-three. I counted."

Brittany shrugged as she pointed at the door behind her with her thumb. "Their press passes check out, guess the studio added them at the last minute and forgot to let us know."

"You guess?"

She did. The passes had made it through the usual security checks but, even as close as they were to the core worlds it would take the better part of a half hour for the round trip to get confirmation from the studio's PR servers and even without seeing the look in Rachel's eyes pleading for Brittany to make this go away, she knew she couldn't make the actress wait that long only to sit through another interview at the end. Best to just get through the next few minutes, call it a day, and let Rachel sink into the steaming, bubble filled tub Brittany had ready and waiting. Even then, she was tempted to tell the late arrivals to take a hike but fighting with the studio was above her pay grade.

"Ten more minutes."

Rachel tossed her head back but said nothing. This was the price she paid for her celebrity and it was one she would pay in full while thanking her lucky stars that she had the success she had because learned that talent alone wasn't enough. She'd even looked forward to these promotional tours at the start of her career but the monotony and repetitiveness of answering the same handful of questions over and over had soon tarnished the allure.

"Fine." Rachel said as she brought her head forward. "But I expect to have a word with Kurt about this later."

"Already on the schedule." Britt called over her shoulder as she opened the door to allow the interviewer and her camerawoman into the room.

And that was another reason she hadn't turned them away at the door. Most media outlets sent only an interviewer with a smart cam to these things. Anyone willing to pay for passage for behind the camera crew along with the on screen talent had to have pretty deep pockets which put them strictly on Kurt's to do list. And she planned to have her say on the matter with him while Rachel was busy with these two.

"You have ten minutes." She informed the slightly shorter blonde while her partner set up their equipment.

"More than enough time." The interviewer replied, her eyes flicking towards Rachel as the latter combed her fingers through her hair.

Brittany's eyes narrowed slightly. They'd clearly come with an agenda and if this stick of a woman was here to do a take down piece on Rachel, well maybe she should give them the boot after all.

"Miss Berry, I'll be just outside if you need anything." She said more firmly than the words required, her eyes still locked on the other blonde's face.

"Thank you, Brittany."

"Q, we're good."

"Okay." Quinn turned back to Rachel's assistant. "Better get to work since we're on the clock."

"Mmhmm." The taller blonde hummed before reluctantly stepping out of the room.

"And who are you with?"

Quinn turned around. "Umm-"

"Penzance Media."

"Ahh." A small frown pulled at Rachel's mouth as she turned to look at Santana. "I don't think I'm familiar with them."

"Yeah, we're new." Quinn cut in, quickly taking the seat opposite Rachel.

"But everyones gonna know about us soon enough."

Quinn fired a glare over her shoulder that had little impact on Santana as she pulled a small device from her pocket and slotted it into the back of the camera. She quickly turned back to Rachel, an extra wide grin in place of her scowl. "Hi."

"Hello... Miss?"

"Oh, shit. Sorry! I mean sorry for the shi- Quinn. You can call me Quinn."

Rachel looked over Quinn's shoulder as Santana turned her back to the pair, shoulders shaking."

"A pleasure." Rachel refocused on the blonde."

"Not yet."

"San!" Quinn spun around in her seat to glower at her 'camerawoman' again.

Definitely one of the odder interviews she'd done today. But if this was the best this Penzance Media could offer, she feared for their success. Clearing her throat she tried to get things back underway. "Please, call me Rachel."

Quinn turned back, her cheeks flushed an amusing and strangely adorable shade of pink. "Sorry about her. She isn't house broken yet."

The snort from behind her back went ignored by both of the seated women.

"Can I just say I'm a huge fan of your work?"

"Thank you."

"You should see her shrine."

"That is it Lopez." Quinn jumped from her seat and whirled around to face the target of her ire.

"Relax, your girlfriend will probably autograph your posters when she sees 'em." Santana said before she flicked a switch on the camera.

Rachel reached for the panic button built into the charm bracelet hanging on her wrist. "Can I see your press passes?"

* * *

Brittany glared at the door for several long moments after it slide shut, still tempted to step back in the room to keep an eye on those two. Something about them just felt... off.

With a shake of her head she turned away and headed for her makeshift work station to record a message for Kurt. If Rachel needed her, she'd know and the only exit from that room was through her. If they tried anything, they wouldn't make it far enough to regret it.

Besides, Rachel had been putting in some serious gym time on top of her regular regiment to prep for Artie's movie. She could hold her own long enough for Brittany to get into the mix. And if either of those two hurt so much as a hair on Rachel's head...

No one messed with Britt's family and got away with it.

She cast another glance at the door before looking down at the bracelet around her wrist -- a twin to the one around Rachel's save for one tiny difference -- the turned to her portable terminal and fired up the comms app.

"Kurt, someone at the studio screwed up and forgot to tell us that they'd added an extra crew to the schedule. Rachel isn't happy and neither am I so you better find out who mucked up before Rachel calls and make sure the studio knows not to let this happen again." Brittany said, her eyes fixed on the terminals camera. "They're from some outfit called 'Penzance Media'. I'm attaching scans of their passes to this in case you need them."

Brittany pulled back a little, wondering if there was anything else she should add.

"Just... Fix this. I can't so you need to. And tell Artie if he expects Rachel to do another of these tours for his flick, he damn well better spread the interviews out more."

With that, Britt tapped the keyboard to end the recording then went about adding the copies of the press passes she'd made when she'd first checked them to the message, double checked that everything was all set, then hit send.

"What the- connection failed?"

* * *

"This isn't over." Quinn growled before she spun back around to face Rachel. "I'm really sorry about this."

"Not yet you aren't." Rachel said with finality as she yanked one of the charms off her bracelet."

"Yeah, about that." Santana said as she pulled the camera off its stand then yanked one of the legs off the tripod and tapped the open end against the floor to dislodge the small hypo-spray hidden inside. "That's not going to work."

Rachel twisted her head toward the door. The door that was still closed. The door Brittany still hadn't come through.

With a speed neither of her would-be-kidnappers were expecting, the brunette launched herself from her seat.

"Shit!"

"Q, catch!"

Rachel didn't dare look back as she ran for the door, her hand stretched out to hit the touchpad that would unbar her path to freedom as soon as physically possible.

A hiss filled her ear.

"I really am sorry." Quinn whispered, one arm wrapped around Rachel's waist as she carefully lowered the other woman to the ground, the paralysing anaesthetic already working its dubious magic on the actress. "I promise, we aren't going to hurt you. It's just business."

The last thing Rachel heard before she passed out was Quinn's voice growling "What the fuck, Lopez?"

* * *

Brittany was on her feet a heartbeat after the error message popped onto her screen. Nothing short of supernova should be able to block her state of the art terminal from establishing a link. Nothing natural anyway.

"Rachel!"

She was across the anteroom before her cry had a chance to bounce off the walls and she smacked the touchpad hard enough to bruise her palm.

"Rachel!" She screamed when the door remained shut, her foot kicking at the reinforced metal -- a useless gesture that she knew would do nothing but vent the emotions vying for attention, chief amongst them guilt.

"Open up you stupid bitches." She gave the door another kick before turning back to her terminal and the small black case tucked beside it. "Don't worry, Rach. Brittany's coming."

* * *

"Don't try and blame me for this, Fabray. You're the one that lost her cool. Besides it's not like we jumped the gun by much."

"The plan was to take her by surprise."

Santana's mouth opened to point out that Quinn could make it up to her crush while they were waiting for their payoff but a dull thud from the door caused both women to forget their argument.

Quinn looked down at the now unconscious Rachel, the broken charm next to her limp hand.

"I thought you cut off the comms."

"I did. Don't look at me, something else must of clued her in."

Another dull thump resonated through the door.

"And She can't get in?"

"Not if the crypto is working."

Somehow Quinn wasn't reassured.

"Think you can take her?"

Santana looked at the door then strained her head to the left and again to the right, a cracking sound filling the otherwise silent room. The assistant may come across as a paper pusher with a cute ass on first glance but Santana knew how deceiving appearances could be. After all, theirs had got them this far. "Only one way to find out."

"Make it fast."

"Do I have any other speed." Santana said as she pulled a thin, dull green card from her back pocket and tossed it to Quinn.

"On three."

Quinn moved to the side of the door, the card held just above the touch pad.

"One... Two... Th-"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's it for now. I hate to leave you on a cliffhanger like this... well, actually I don't but I'll pretend I do if you will. Either way I'm not sure when the next update will be up but look at it this way, the original chapter (and a few bits extra) have been pretty much untouched since 2011 so you've already gotten triple in one week what the story as a whole got in almost 4 years.
> 
> Congrats.
> 
> Also, I'm on a bit of a role with this one right now so I'm hopeful of at least one more chapter before the week is out but don't hold me to that.


	5. This Could Be The Star-t Of A Beautifully Tragic Friendship

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As the old saying goes, 'The best laid plans of Mice and Men oft go awry'.  
> Quinn and Santana aren't doing much better.  
> But the clock is ticking and unless our not-so-heroic duo can get their act together (and off K-7) the only think they'll be planning is their prison escape.  
> Lets hope they have better luck with that.

"-ree"

Brittany barely had time to unpack her special toy -- and none to use it -- before the sound of the door hissing open announced that her foes were making good their escape sooner than she'd expected. Much sooner. And that couldn't mean good news for Rachel.

Think fast, Britt. Think fast.

"Please don't hurt me!"

Confusion warred with action, sending Santana skidding to a stop only a few steps through the door.

Quinn shot through the door behind her and only just managed not to run into Santana as Brittany threw her hands up in surrender and dropped to her knees.

"Please. I don't want to die."

"What the -"

Britt drew on hours of helping Rachel rehearse and scrunched her face up in fear. Soon tears dripped down her cheeks. "I'm nobody. Please, take what you want just don't hurt me."

"San?"

"She was like this when I got here."

Quinn looked back into the other room where Rachel still lay exactly as she'd left her.

"What now?"

"You're the captain. You tell me."

"Well we can't leave her here."

Brittany redoubled her sobbing.

"Fuck." Santana cursed. "Look, whoever you are, we're not gonna hurt you okay? So you can stop crying."

"I-is she alright?" Brittany asked around her whimpering.

"She's fine. Sleeping, but fine." Quinn assured Brittany. "You can check for yourself."

Brittany looked at the door through red rimmed eyes and sniffled. "How do I know you won't knock me out and lock me in there?"

The two pirates exchanged a glance, neither noticing how quickly Britt's tears had come to an end in their relief that they had in fact ended.

"We... promise."

Brittany gave another sniffle. She was half tempted to ask them to pinky swear but that would be pushing her luck. And right now, their thinking she was nothing but a frightened assistant concerned for her boss was the one card she held that she could play. No point in making it a joker.

The fact that she expected them to go back on their word and attack her helped the blonde to sell the role she'd chosen as she slowly crawled over to the doorway on trembling arms.

Method acting. Rachel would be so proud.

If she was conscious, that is. The sight of the brunette motionless on the floor made Brittany's hand curl in fury but she swallowed the rage burning inside her. Now was not the time. Later. She had to wait for the opportune moment.

"What did y-you do to her."

"Just a little shot. She'll wake up in an hour." Quinn replied, her own hand curling in guilt around the hypo she'd used on Rachel.

"And what are you going to do to her?"

"Enough questions." Santana grumbled.

The renewal of Brittany's sobs brought the Latina a hard glare from Quinn.

"What? Any second someone else is gonna notice the comms are down in this section. We don't have time to stand around and tell her the whole plan."

"So what do we do with her?"

"Like I said, you're the captain."

Quinn glanced down at her hand then at the still kneeling Brittany.

_Please do the right thing._ Brittany thought. _Please do the stupid thing._

"Worst plan ever." Quinn muttered under her breath as she stepped forward.

Britt smiled at the sound of the hiss against her neck. _Don't worry Rachel. I'll protect you._

"You take her." Quinn said as she stepped over Britt's unconscious body to get the rest of their gear along with the one person they'd come here for.

If only things had gone to plan. They'd have knocked out Rachel without her panicking and then used her unconscious state to lure the assistant into the room so they could catch her by surprise and knock her out too without anyone the wiser, haul Rachel out with them, lock Britt inside the interview room, and shut off the scrambler before anyone noticed the comms weren't working. It would have been hours before anyone could get to Britt and find out what had happened. Long enough for them to be back on their own ship and well away before making their ransom demand.

Sure, they might still get away with it but dragging along the assistant was a complication they hadn't planed for. Maybe they could still leave her?

Quinn peered back into the anteroom to find Santana kneeling beside Brittany, an expression on her partner's face that she'd rarely seen in their years together -- and one that never ended well -- as San's hand hovered over the other blonde's cheek.

Definitely a complication.

"Make yourself useful and set this up." The top of the tripod came off in Quinn's hand and she tossed it at Santana.

"Don't take this out on me." San groused as she picked the modified EMP mine off the floor where it had landed after bouncing off her thigh.

"Shut-up and do it."

San's lips pressed together in a thin line but she got to her feet without another word and headed over to the far door and attached the mine to the wall.

Quinn walked over and pressed the same dull green card into Santana's hand before she headed back into the interview room. her voice calling out a few seconds later. "On three. One... Two... Three."

Santana pressed the card against the touchpad for the exterior door, temporarily overriding the revolving algorithm keeping it locked that had been injected into the computer system in the millisecond between Santana flicking the switch and the scrambler kicking in. The hiss of the door sliding open was followed a half second later by three rapid beeps from the mine... then darkness and the smell of ozone.

Whatever clock they'd been running off before now reset. The range of the scramble had been pretty small without the Unholy's comms system to boost, affecting only a few rooms to either side of Rachel's suite. But the EMP had knocked out the power to the entire section of the station -- maybe a little more with the mods -- and that sort of thing gets noticed.

It also gave them an advantage they didn't have before.

"Grab your girl." Quinn said as she floated back into the room, the light strapped to her head briefly blinding Santana before revealing Rachel drifting gently in Quinn's arms while the repulsors built into the captain's belt guided her across the room so she could push a matching light into San's hands.

No power meant no artificial gravity.

Santana pulled the light down onto her brow and tightened the strap -- her own repulsors kicking in automatically to keep her stable -- before she kicked off from the wall to retrieve Brittany's floating form. She'd expected a fighter. She'd even been sort of looking forward to seeing the leggy blonde in action. Seeing her terrified, tears streaking down her chest... For all the shit she and Quinn and the rest of their crew got up to, she wasn't used to seeing that. The kind of people they usually dealt with were too innocent or desperate to know better and too grateful once the job was done to cry anything more than tears of joy, or too hard-ass to break down like that. 

She wrapped her arms around Brittany's waist and pulled the other woman close, Britt's high, tight ponytail tickling her neck as she brought her mouth to her prisoner's ear. "I'll take you out to dinner as an apology when this is over."

If Quinn heard her, she didn't comment."

"Let's go."

"Aye aye, Captain."

* * *

"C'mon 'Cedes, move that beautiful butt of yours."

"Eyes front, Evans." Mercedes ordered, the small grin that played at the corners of her mouth undercutting her attempt to temper her partner's commentary.

"I will when you get ahead of me." Sam tossed back, his own grin growing a size as he shooed her forward with one of the hands carrying their gear. "But seriously, 'Cedes, we got to get moving or we'll miss our flight and you know the show isn't gonna cover a room for the night if they won't even upgrade us from coach."

"We're so much better than this, Sam."

"I know. And one day the whole galaxy is going to know it. But for now can we step it up a bit?"

Mercedes' forehead wrinkled. "You're lucky you're cute, you know that?"

"I'm counting on it. Now move, Woman."

Mercedes strolled past to take the lead but not without shaking her finger at him as she did. "Call me 'Woman' like that again and I'll shove that tripod so far up your a-"

The simulated sunlight overhead dimmed, then flickered.

Both of them stopped. Sam slowly turned in place as he stared up at the lighting panels in the ceiling until they snapped back to full strength and he had to turn away. Blinking his eyes, he said, "Well that was-"

"A story." Mercedes cut him off, the questioning look he gave her unnoticed as she looked back the way they had come and away from the docking port they were headed towards.

"Some bad bulbs are a story?"

Mercedes sighed as she turned back to face her boyfriend. "State of the art space stations losing power are the story."

Sam glanced up at the panels beaming light down on them at full strength then back at Mercedes. "Not to burst your bubble, babe, but the power's still on."

"Here."

"Okay, but if the power was off somewhere else there'd be some kind of alarm, right?"

As if on cue, the edges of the panels above them turned a day-glow yellow and animated black arrows appeared along the corridor walls. A voice so perfectly synthesized it was almost indistinguishable from the real thing filled the air.

"Please remain calm. A minor technical problem has been detected. For your comfort and safety please follow the guide arrows nearest you to your closest emergency response centre for further instructions.

A pause of a few seconds followed before the same voice started speaking again, this time in Mandarin.

" 'Cedes..." Sam said, his tone pleading for her to not be thinking what he knew she was thinking.

"Sam..." She replied, her tone confirming Sam's fear and dashing any hope that he could talk her out of it.

He adjusted his grip on the handle of his camera case. "They'll never let us near whatever's going on."

"Then we won't ask them for permission."

The computerized voice started the message over again, this time in French.

* * *

"Uugh." Rachel pressed one hand against her temple, while her other arm played the part of unsteady support as she levered herself off the floor.

Wait? Floor.

The memories that flooded her head quickly replaced the dull ache that had taken up residency between her ears with a sharp fire that brought a hiss of pain from between her lips.

There had been a blonde woman, Q something. And another woman, dark hair, dusky skin, maybe tan, and definitely mouthy. An argument. Panic. And then... nothing

Rachel didn't need to open her eyes to know she was in trouble. She didn't need to open them to know she wasn't on K-7 anymore. And she really didn't want to open them to find out if she was alone... But open them she did.

It was worse than she feared.

Not just because of the spike in her headache as the harsh overhead lighting added fuel to the blades stabbing her brain from the inside out. Nor the questionable hygienic state of the rust streaked walls and stained decking of wherever her captors had taken her. No, the worst bit was seeing Brittany rolled up against the opposite wall. That sight was proof that Rachel had failed to protect her. Yes, it was Brittany's job to look out for her but it was Rachel's responsibility to take care of Brittany. With everything Brittany did for her, it was the one real responsibility she had left. The one thing she could do for her friend.

And if that wasn't enough to knock the wind out of Rachel's already tattered sails, Britt being here meant there was no one to tell the authorities what happened. No one to lead the charge for their search.

"Rachel?"

Not trusting what her ears were telling her, she turned her head towards the familiar voice.

"Finn?"

The sound of shuffling against the floor could be heard from the far end of the room until a head came into view from behind a stack of crates.

"It is you."

Only Finn Hudson would smile like that in the middle of being kidnapped.

"How?"

"They took my ship." Finn looked around the almost empty cargo bay. "This is my ship by the way." He looked back at her expectantly.

"Uh, it's. Very, um... Finn, how did they find you?"

"D'un'no. Sensors said they were a Fleet scout, next thing I know this hot blonde is pressing something to my neck and, bam, I wake up here trussed up like a Christmas turkey."

"Yes but why you? It can't just be a coincidence that they steal your ship out of all the ships out there. Is Kurt here too?"

Finn wriggled against the floor until his shoulders cam into view. "No. I was talking to him earlier-"

"After they took you?"

"No, before. He was back home and I don't think I was out long enough for them to get there and back and... Wait, where did they get you?"

"K-7"

"Me too. Again Finn smiled at her despite all reason. "At least I was headed there when they got me" he frowned. "Guess I'm not going to finish that delivery job. I hope there's no completion penalty. Can't afford one right now.

"Finn-"

The sound of a bulkhead opening stilled Rachel's tongue and she froze up, unsure if she should fake still being knocked out or go full diva and demand her immediate release.

"Hi."

Quinn. That was the blonde's name. Rachel stared at the other woman, willing the pain in her head to flow along her glare and embed itself inside her captor's cranium.

"Look, I know you have no reason to believe me but I meant it earlier. I really am sorry about this and we don't want to hurt you. The minute we get paid you're free to go."

Ransom. So that was their plan. Better than some of the possible alternatives but not by much and at least it explained why they'd gone after Finn too.

"You may as well let us go now. Kurt won't pay you one red cent if it means painting targets on our back for every two-bit thug looking for a payday.

Kurt? Quinn was quick to hide her confusion as she had no idea who Kurt was. Maybe Rachel's studio contact. That would make sense. For now she filed the name away. "I came back to check on you, see if you were okay or needed anything."

"No and my freedom in that order."

Quinn sighed.

"I could use a bathroom break." Finn said, giving a quick look from one woman to the other, "In case anyone's interested."

"San." Quinn shouted over her shoulder. The dark haired woman from Rachel's memories stepped through the bulkhead a few seconds later, her eyes resting on the still unconscious Brittany before turning to Quinn.

"You bellowed?"

"Pee break" Quinn nodded towards Finn."

"What? Why do I-"

"Because I'm the captain and because you're the one that mixed up the hypo last time we doped him up and made him all goofy."

 _Ahh. That explained it._ Rachel thought.

"I'm so getting my own ship when we get paid." Santana griped as she stalked over to Finn and hauled him to his feet. "What do you eat, boy? Bowling balls?" Next time I'm just gonna turn the AG off and float your fat ass around."

"Hey!"

"Stow the commentary. Both of you."

And as mouthy as Rachel remembered. At least she the worst side effect she had to deal with was a headache, unlike Finn. Hope fully both would wear off soon enough.

Santana flipped up her middle finger as she guided Finn towards the front of the ship and the lone head on board.

"Do you-"

"I'm fine." Rachel cut off the question. "Or as fine as one can been when taken hostage."

Quinn looked down at the floor. "This will all be over in a few hours."

"Or you could end it right now."

Quinn's head came up again.

"No, I can't. I'm sorry but I've got too much invested in this and I'm not going to let my crew down just because I like you- your films. I told you, this is business, not personal."

"Tell that to her."

The anger and guilt she'd been holding back slipped into her voice as Rachel pointed at Brittany.

"She wasn't part of the plan."

"No? Just Finn and I then? Whatever will you do?"

Quinn opened her mouth to ask how Rachel knew the cargo ship's Captain but stopped herself short. Better Rachel think whatever she wants for now. If things went according to plan it would be over soon and Rachel, her assistant, and this Finn guy could go back to their lives They could all go back to their lives.

And Quinn wouldn't have to look into those hate filled eyes again. Though she was starting to doubt she'd ever be able to watch another Rachel Berry movie again without feeling like shit.

"Whatever I have too." Quinn said before stepping back through the bulkhead herself, the airtight door shutting with a dressing solidness.

And opened again a few seconds later.

"Thanks."

"Don't mention it. Ever!" Santana replied, her nose still scrunched up in revulsion over her part in Finn's visit to the washroom.

Finn, on the other hand, and with his own still bound behind his back, happily made his way back to his crates, this time taking a seat against the side rather than the back and leaving him in full view of the room.

Santana shuddered as she gave Finn one last look before she turned to Brittany.

"You can go now."

San turned to Rachel, the pair sizing each other up before Santana turned away. "I'll be back in a few... When she wakes up." She tossed over her shoulder before the bulkhead closed again.

And then there were three.

Rachel didn't bother checking on Finn. She had nothing on her that could release his hands nor help speed along whatever drug they'd 'accidentally' filled him with. Besides he was both awake and active. Two things Brittany was not. And Rachel wasn't willing to trust Santana's estimate of when that would change.

Rachel replied as she made the short trip across the cargo bay and knelt beside Brittany. She may not have anything to speed along whatever had been injected into their systems. But she did have the role of 'Nurse number two' early in her career and the research she'd done to go with it.

"You still doing the movie thing?" Finn asked out of the blue.

"Yes." Pulse strong but slow, no signs of respiratory issues, no obvious bruising or contusions. Rachel sat back on her heels, her guilt abated only slightly after Brittany's examination.

"You like it?"

"What?" Rachel looked over her shoulder at Finn.

"The movies, you like doing then?"

"Yes."

"Cool." Finn nodded "I don't think I've found what I like to do."

Rachel shuffled around on her knees to face him.

"I mean, I like my ship. It's kinda small and it kinda smells sometimes but it's a good ship and it's mine. Bought and paid for it myself."

Rachel gave Brittany another look and resigned herself to waiting for her friend to come to then crawled over Finn's side while trying not to look too hard at the floor. She slipped one hand behind his back to take hold one of his as she settled in next to him and rested her head on his shoulder.

"It's a nice ship."

"Isn't it?" Finn looked down at her with pride beaming from his face.

She tilted her head back to look up at him. There had been a time before her career had taken off, back when she'd only just met Kurt and, through him, Finn. A time when Rachel had thought she might have a crush on the man sitting beside her now. She'd grown out of it since, not easily and not quickly mind you, but she was over whatever romantic attraction she had for him and had been for years.

But right now, she could remember why she'd been attracted to him in the first place.

"I miss my dad." He turned back to the far wall.

"I know."

"Do you think he'd be proud of me?"

Rachel ran her eyes over the pitted and stained interior of Finn's ship. The ship he owned all on his own.

"Yes, Finn. I think he'd be very proud of you."

"I hope your friend is okay." 

"Me too.?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> According to a quick Google search, the top three languages (for business at least) are, in order: English, Mandarin, and French (with Spanish 4th). I'm sure a few hundred years could change that distribution a bit but since it fits so nicely with some of the other references I've worked into this story I decided to go with it. Not many other references in this chapter since it's mostly plot with a bit of exposition (surprise) but for those of you who enjoy spotting them, there'll be more soon enough; I promise." 
> 
> Also, in writing this chapter I've realized I may have let through a few plot holes in the last few chapters -- particularly the last one -- so I may go back and tweak things a bit. Shouldn't be too drastic (they're more plot dimples than holes) and thus shouldn't necessitate a re-read but if anything significant does get added/deleted/moved around I'll be sure to mention it in future chapters. 
> 
> Oh, for those of you wondering what happened during Finn's ship-napping (and why it's not here already) I'm hoping to include it in a flash back because right now it's just refusing to be written. Rather than hold the whole story up I'm electing to sidestep it for now and work it in if/when I can. Apologies.


	6. Star Crossed Signals

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Word is starting to leak out that something isn't quite right in the universe and it's only a matter of time before the hunt begins for Rachel (and Brittany... and Finn)
> 
> Can our pirates make good their escape before the Fleet is fast on their heels... or worse, Brittany wakes up. 
> 
> Maybe they should wish upon a star for luck. Shouldn't be too hard, they have one locked up in the cargo hold.

"Sir?"

Kurt's hand tightened around his pen. He and Blaine had worked together for several years now and they had gotten to know each other well; well enough that Kurt knew the hitch in his assistant's voice meant there was something he had to say but really didn't want to. That usually meant bad new.

"Finn?"

"Uh, no sir. He confirmed the deliver contract but hasn't picked up the cargo yet."

Kurt looked up from his desk, the pen making a faint click as he lauded it on the desk.

"Rachel."

Blaine licked his lips before answering. "I- there was a report from K-7, something about a power loss... and Brittany hasn't reported in yet.

Yep. Bad news.

"How long?"

His assistant looked down at his feet. "I got the report twenty minutes ago. Thought I should wait to hear from Brittany before I brought it to your attention."

Twenty minutes... Even with the comms delay that was a bad sign. Britt was too good at her job not to let them know that she and Rachel were alright or what was wrong if they weren't and too dedicated to Rachel to let anyone stop her from getting a signal out as soon as she could in either case. But twenty minutes still wasn't long enough to go into panic mode just yet.

"When did it happen?"

"The report was about twenty minutes old so, with the delay, just shy of an hour ago all together."

Dammit!

"Sir-"

"Stop." Kurt cut off the apology he knew was about to come out of Blaine's mouth. If whatever happened was bad enough to keep Britt dark for an hour, Blaine bringing it to his attention twenty minutes sooner wouldn't have made a difference. What mattered now was what they did next. 

"Get me the station security chief, chief medical officer, and the studio rep for the press tour then book me onto the first rapid transport we have going in that direction."

"Yes Sir."

"And Blaine, get me Finn."

* * *

"Your girl's got quite the attitude on her."

Quinn narrowed her eyes but remained focused on the nav screen. They were still over a hour from rendezvousing with the Unholy and the last thing she needed after today was to spend it arguing with her second in command.

"I said-"

"I heard you the first time."

"Damn, she really got to you didn't she."

"No." Quinn spun the pilot's seat around -- the only piece of furniture in the cramped cockpit. "You got to me when you fucked up the plan."

"We got away."

"Barely."

"Well maybe if you'd been focused on the plan instead of drooling over your little crush and babbling like a fool-"

"Oh fuck you, Lopez." Quinn got to her feet. "Like you haven't been making eyes at your little blonde the whole time. She wasn't part of the plan but I don't hear you mouthing off about dragging her ass along for the ride."

"Leave her ass out of this."

"I would have but someone fucked the plan!

"Incoming comm signal."

Both women froze, their anger overridden in a moment of confusion.

"Q?"

Quinn didn't bother to reply, her turn back to the nav console enough to launch both women into action as they began scanning every readout, switch, and dial they could find.

"Incoming comm signal."

"Who the hell is this guy?"

"Later. We need to shut that signal down now."

"Yeah but how-"

"Later!"

"Incoming comm signal."

It was Santana who spotted it, an otherwise innocuous button flashing green and inset into a hole only slightly larger than itself that had been cut into one of a panel at least twenty years too old for the tech it now controlled.

"Got it."

"Shut it down." Quinn said as she turned around to see Santana's find with her own eyes. 

The Latina eyed the solitary control. "Yeah, I don't think that's an option."

"It has to be. What idiot wires a real time comms system to only accept calls?"

"Apparently the one hanging out with your girl."

"Incoming comm signal."

* * *

Blaine tapped the side of his terminal as he waited for 'call pending' to become Finn's face.

He really hoped it happened soon. Kurt had enough on his plate right now without worrying about his brother -- not that that ever stopped him -- and even the title of CEO and President of Hummel Engineering could cut through only so much red tape only so fast.

"C'mon, Finn." Blaine tapped the side of his console again, this time a little harder. "Hit the damn button."

* * *

"What if there's an override."

"That's what I'm looking for." Quinn snapped as she rechecked every panel for the third time.

"No. I mean what if there's an override on the other end. Whoever this guy is, when he gets a call he's expected to answer it. What if whoever's calling can force the connection if he doesn't?"

Quinn, her hands braced either side of what she was pretty sure was a recalled energy distribution control system installed halfway down one wall, looked up at Santana.

"Incoming comm signal."

"Shit."

"See, we can agree on something."

"Shut up and get down."

"What?"

Santana's answer was Quinn half pushing, half tripping her onto the floor and a barked "Stay" before the blonde jabbed her finger against the still blinking button then dropped into the Captain's seat.

* * *

"Finally." Blaine sighed as the call finally connected. "Finn, it's Bla- Who are you?"

The holographic head and shoulders looking back at him was not the one he'd been expecting. The not unattractive blonde -- if you were into that sort of thing -- opened her mouth to answer only to jerk in her seat then glare over her shoulder before turning back to Blaine. 

"I'm, uh, Lucy."

"Well, uh, Lucy. I'm looking for a man called Finn. I'm sure you must know him; you're on his ship."

A wince flickered across Lucy's face and Blaine got the impression that she tried to kick something out of frame before she plastered an extra wide smile in her face. 

"Oh yeah, I know him. We're... Dating. Yes. I'm his girlfriend." 

Again, it looked like she tried to kick something off camera. And girlfriend? He didn't remember Kurt mentioning that Finn was seeing anyone. He supposed it was possible Kurt just hadn't told him but given the times Kurt had mentioned his concern over Finn being alone, that seemed unlikely. Maybe Finn hadn't told Kurt.

"Well... Mazel tov. Can I talk to Finn? It's about his brother."

"No. Uh, I mean not right now, he's... In the bathroom. And tired. We had a really busy day."

O-kay. Can you have him call me when he's free?"

"Will do. Over and out."

Blaine eyed the still smiling Lucy for a few more seconds before ending the call. 

"She seems... Interesting."

* * *

"He didn't look Jewish in the bathroom."

"Are you trying to get us caught?" Quinn spun the seat around in time to see Santana getting to her feet.

"You deserved it for knocking me down."

"Un-freaking-believable." Quinn threw her hands up into the air.

"Be glad it was just a poke in the ass. Anyone else who tried that with me would be picking their teeth off the floor right now. 

"When this is over, you and I are having a long talk." Quinn got to her feet and headed for the cargo bay only for Santana's hand to close around her wrist as she walked past the other woman. 

"Q... You know I..."

Quinn took a deep breath, held it, then blew it out. 

"I know... But just once would it hurt you to actually say it?"

Santana let go of Quinn's wrist. "You tell me."

Quinn laughed. For all the shit they gave each other, no one knew her better than Santana and no one else had her back like her partner either. If only they weren't so damn much alike they'd probably get along better.

As it was...

"You're still a bitch."

Santana shrugged. "You're the one that hired me."

* * *

"Rach?"

Rachel swallowed a whimper. Finn's shoulder had proven more comfortable than she remembered and with her eyes closed against the lights her headache had almost faded to the point she could ignore it but Finn's stage whisper so close to her ear had set off a fresh flare of pain across her temple. 

"Yes Finn?"

"I think Britt's awake."

Her eyes snapped open as her head jerked up, head ache forgotten as she turned towards her friend to see the blonde now lying on her back, one hand rubbing at her eyes.

"Britt!"

Brittany groaned.

Rachel cringed. "Sorry." She said in a much quieter voice as she rocked forward onto her hands and knees and started to crawl across the room. "Is it bad?"

"Are you okay?"

The brunette's mouth curled into a smile. Even now her friend was more worried about how Rachel was doing than how she felt herself. "I'm okay." It was mostly the truth. Brittany being awake had done even more for both her headache and her mood than Finn's shoulder. "Now back to you."

"Not gonna lie, I could use a drink."

"I could do with some water myself."

"Not water. A drink. If I'm gonna be stuck with a hangover like this I want to have at least a little of the fun of getting it."

Rachel slapped Britt's shoulder then cringed again. "Sorry."

"Don't be." Brittany rolled onto her stomach before slowly -- and with Rachel's help -- moving to her knees. "You hit like a girl."

"Having seen you in the gym I'm going to take that as a compliment."

"You do that... And am I imaging things or is that Finn?"

"Hi Britt."

"That's him. We're on his ship, apparently."

"He's behind this?"

Rachel felt Brittany's arm tense under her hand. "No. They hijacked his ship. He's drugged up even worse than we were and tied to boot."

"Uh-huh."

She could tell Brittany still had doubts but she also knew that Brittany was going to be suspicious of everyone save Rachel herself until they were out of this mess and probably for a while after that. There was no way her friend could really believe Finn had anything to do with this beyond being a fellow victim.

"The dark haired one had to take him to the bathroom."

"Bet he enjoyed that."

"Right now I think he enjoys everything. Like I said, they drugged him up with something."

Britt ran her tongue over her teeth before giving Finn a nod and a, "Hi."

"What do you think of my ship?"

Without looking around, Brittany replied. "Lovely." Then pushed herself to her feet over Rachel's objections. "Does it come with an escape pod?"

"It did?"

"Did?"

Finn gave Britt a self conscious grin. "I took it out so I could have more room for cargo."

Brittany sighed as she reached behind her back, her hand dipping under the waistband of her custom made slacks. "Plan B it is then."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay, Update. 
> 
> Two, technically. I made the first of the small changes I mentioned I might need to make to fill some potential plot holes. As I expected it's nothing major but if you're interested, the change is in Kurt's call to Finn back in chapter two and about half way through the scene (and touched on again here). Right now there's only one other particularly problematic plot point that I think I may potentially need to ret-con but I'm still working on the how so when I do figure it out and make the necessary changes, I'll let you know.

**Author's Note:**

> Bonus points to anyone who can spot the various references. Prize to anyone that can spot them all.


End file.
